Angry God (All Saints High 3)

Raff pulled away from me momentarily, fingering my face with a tender smile. He was a good friend for helping me with this. He had no skin in this game, other than helping me reclaim my pride and power in this twisted power struggle Vaughn had started.

“But Spencer, mate, she is so bloody sweet.”

Pope began to lower himself down my body, kissing a path between my breasts and along my stomach through my nightgown.

“That’s enough,” Vaughn snarled. “Lenora, you made your point. I haven’t received a public blow job in months. Unchain me.”

I ignored him. I knew that in all probability, Vaughn had been completely celibate since arriving at Carlisle Castle, save for our encounters. But in my mind, he was the one who’d brought disaster to my doorstep. Arabella was here because of him.

Plus, there was a slightly deranged theory I’d been nursing privately since I was a kid—one that believed we’d had a special bond, a carnal connection, since that moment behind the fountain, sharing a stupid, half-melted chocolate bar under the pounding sun.

And Vaughn had let dozens of girls suck him off him since then.

He’d betrayed me every time he’d let someone else touch him after the day he’d threatened to kiss me, after showing me the first traces of his humanity, after we looked at each other and knew—knew—anyone else was a terrible mistake. We weren’t coincidence. We were fate. And our bodies—though not our souls—belonged to each other. But he’d broken the pact. Numerous times.

Vaughn wasn’t the only one allowed to make mistakes.

If we were going to need each other’s forgiveness, I had to sin, too.

He’d wronged me many times. I’d wronged him never. Perhaps until now.

He needed to forgive, too.

This was me helping us go back to being screwmates.

I felt the breeze of cold air on my swollen clit as Pope pulled my knickers down. I kicked them aside, and they hit the wall. Raff lowered his face between my legs and took a long, greedy breath.

“Hmm,” he shuddered into me.

Vaughn regarded the scene wordlessly. I looked up from Raff’s mane of wild, blond curls and watched Vaughn watching us. He’d stopped resisting the handcuffs. He simply watched, his jaw ticking.

“What can I say to make you stop?” he growled.

Bargaining. The god who descended to Earth and tried to strike a deal with a mortal.

“What is it that you want, Lenora? Exclusivity? Dinner dates? Your precious internship back?”

“An apology,” I said, unsmiling.

Pope held back. His mouth was so close to my groin I could practically feel it on me.

“For starters,” I added.

“I apologize.” Vaughn spat the word like it was poisonous, taking a few seconds to get used to its taste.

“What for?” I asked conversationally.

“For letting randoms give me head both when you were an ocean away, and a few feet from me. I apologize for bringing Arabella here. I thought she’d be just another pawn in our game. I had no idea she’d fuck your dad. What else?”

I stroked my chin, pretending his words didn’t slice something deep inside me. “No more treating me like I’m your property. We both know I’m your equal.”

“Fine,” he quipped, seeming eager to move on with the plan. “Now kick his fucking face in before I do it from across the room.”

I shook my head slowly, going in for the kill. He couldn’t give me his internship, I knew that, but everything else I’d asked for was already given. That’s why he kept coming back. He couldn’t deny me.

I needed something else. Something big.

“I want to see your secret sculpture,” I added. “Your mysterious art.”

Vaughn closed his eyes, letting out a ragged breath. It looked like he’d been punched in the face. Too far, I thought.

“Anything else, Len,” he grumbled quietly. “Anything.”

“No.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, looking pained, his chest rising and falling. When he opened them again, his expression was dead and hollow. He truly was a black swan.

“Make it quick,” he said, resigned.

“Keep your eyes open, Clockwork Orange style.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that a promise?” I taunted.

“After tonight? You’ll be lucky if I spit in your direction, Astalis.”

And just like that, Raff’s mouth disappeared between my legs. I threw my head back, shocked by the hot, wet sensation of his tongue as it pried my pussy open, slipping in with confident expertise. He made a moaning sound as he grabbed both my bum cheeks. I propped myself against the table, looking down as he feasted on me.

A whimper escaped my mouth when Pope ran his tongue in circles all the way from the base of my sex to my clit, flicking it over and over again. I trembled, my nipples puckering, my breasts swollen, sensitive, and sore with need. I grabbed one of my tits and squeezed, imagining it was Vaughn, wondering if he would ever do something like this—give without taking.